Snow days

How I miss him when it snows.

I realized that yesterday. It may have been a little hard to realize last year because I simply missed him so very much all the damn time that it was very hard to distinguish, but I remember feeling it the first time I went out to shovel, the first time I saw the white stuff out the front window, and watched as my au pair that year, who had never seen snow, was amazed. I certainly felt it the day we went to Longwood in the snow. I had never before seen Longwood Gardens in the snow. He never saw Longwood in the snow. How he would have loved it.

Snow days are hard. There’s what everyone thinks of first. The basic logistics. The anxiety if we can’t get out, run out of food. The anxiety to shovel, get the driveway cleaned… but truthfully, I think snow brings out greatness in neighbors. Realistically, I know my neighbors will help me. They are amazing. At least three different neighbors attacked my driveway at various times yesterday. So if I can quell the anxiety, I know the logistics will be just fine.

The hard part is just how much he loved snow. Snow was his thing. He loved to stay on top of the Capital Weather gang reports, he loved to get out there and shovel. Even when we were in Arlington. In January 2015, our first winter in Fairfax, we got a huge amount of snow starting Friday night all through the weekend. The plow couldn’t get to us for a long time. The public schools were closed for a week. (Our kids were not out of daycare yet.) Still, our driveway gleamed bright and black, for Tim was out there with the shovel and the salt nearly hourly. He had a blast playing not just with our kids, but all the neighbor kids. Yesterday’s snow was a good snow. Tim would have loved it. There is guilt there.

Snow reminds me of getting out there and playing in it and shoveling it, and it reminds me of snuggling up together inside. Loving being together, and letting the rest of the world go by while we had each other. There is longing there.

There is also an element of snow that is like Christmas. It’s magic. It’s a magic that their father truly loved, and I want to ensure is passed down to A, R and D in just the right way. There is also some pressure there.

But I myself have always loved snow. I love ice skating, ice hockey, sledding, skiing, every winter sport. It was the driver of my wanting to go to the Winter Olympics in Torino in 2006. There was a moment yesterday when the kids got sick of sledding and went inside to warm up. I took that opportunity to grab a sled and go down the hill on my own… and it was wonderful. Just wonderful. Selfishly, it was the best part of my day. Then I went a few times, because, why not? I even raced one of my mom friends down the hill!

Looking out at the snow… it’s so beautiful, it takes your breath away. I miss him when it snows for all the reasons I’ve said above, and yet, when I was exhilarated from sledding – I felt him smile. I know he would tell me not to put so much pressure on myself to make things a certain way for the kids… he’d tell me not to worry about the shoveling, or the food, or the amount of screen time, or whatever my exact worry is… but just to enjoy these moments. But as I am me, that is not easy to do. However, when I let myself relax, and just completely enjoy speeding down the hill on a little sled, I feel his smile, and its the best gift I could give myself.

I know now. I know a little more how much a simple thing like a snowfall can mean to a person. – Sylvia Plath